The Good Dog (8 page)

“Stop it, McKinley!” she cried. “No fighting! Scoot, Redburn,” she yelled at the setter. “Get home to your own street! Now get!”

Redburn turned his back on McKinley and walked off a few feet, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “McKinley, you refused a fair fight. I'm calling a meeting of the pack. Like it or not, I'm going to be the new head dog.”

Showing his teeth, McKinley tried to leap forward again. Sarah restrained him.

Redburn trotted off, leg feathers flowing. The sight enraged McKinley. He struggled to get free.

“Stop this!” Sarah demanded. “I won't have you fighting. If you do, I'll lock you inside the house.”

McKinley sat. He opened his mouth slightly and stuck out his tongue. From the corner of his eye he saw Boots and Jaws scamper away. They would, he knew, spread the news.

“There. That's better,” the woman said, letting go of McKinley's collar. “We have quite enough
dog business in town without fighting. There's a meeting over at the town hall right now about that wolf Jack saw. Now, are you going to be calm?” she asked McKinley.

The
wolf.
He put up a paw and touched her knee, whimpering softly to tell her he was fine.

“Good boy,” Sarah said. She got back in her truck and drove it close to the house. Then she went inside, carrying food. McKinley could smell fresh meat.

As he watched her, Aspen hurried up. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

Tubbs came as well. “Oh, wow, McKinley. That was serious.”

McKinley looked down at him. “Tubbs, I've got an important job for you.”

“You do?”

“If I understood my female right, I think the humans are having a gathering to talk about Lupin.”

“Who's Lupin?”

“That wolf you were asking about. Find that
gathering. No one will mind you being there. Figure out what they are planning about the wolf.”

“Me?” Tubbs yelped, his tail wagging furiously. “You want
me
to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks. Well, sure, I think I can. Absolutely. I will. Right now?”

“Now.”

Tubbs went scrambling down the way, barking with pleasure.

McKinley turned to Aspen. “I need your help, too.”

“What kind?”

“I have to find Lupin. But I'd feel better if you came with me, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“Aspen, she's a lot more powerful than I am. She might turn on me. If something happened to me I'd want the pack to know about it. Will you come?”

Aspen looked into McKinley's eyes. “Of course.”

Side by side they began to lope toward Strawberry Park.

M
cKinley checked the little house on Fox Haven Way. There were no new messages. With Aspen still by his side, he plunged across the field and up into the hills.

Aspen sniffed. “Where was Duchess hiding?”

McKinley pointed his nose toward the boulders. “There's a place inside all these rocks. Lupin was in there, too. When Duchess came out—here—Pycraft grabbed her. Redburn and Sullivan—with the long gun—were over there. And here”—McKinley smelled the area below the boulders—“Aspen,” he barked. “Smell here.”

Aspen put her nose down, then looked up. “Blood.”

McKinley growled. “I bet it's Lupin's. It all happened pretty fast, but she ran around here.” He trotted behind the boulders, Aspen following close. “Being out front, I didn't see what happened. But when I heard two explosions, I took off.”

Aspen barked. “I'm glad you did.”

“There's blood here, too.”

Aspen drew closer. “Still Lupin's?”

“Pretty sure. The trail leads over here.” McKinley worked his way through the bushes, nose low, taking deep breaths as he went.

Aspen kept up with McKinley's zigzag patterns, now and again darting off on her own.

Lupin's scent led them higher into the hills.

“She sure wasn't traveling a straight line,” Aspen barked. “Think she was heading north?”

McKinley looked around. “Maybe. Looks like she was trying to cover her tracks.”

Aspen put her nose to the earth. “I don't smell anyone following.”

“Right. Redburn was really scared when he got a whiff of her. Unless Sullivan made him, he never would have gone on his own. But I think the humans were scared, too.”

Aspen gazed at him. “McKinley, you're scared of her, too, aren't you?”

“Yes. But in a different way.”

“What way?”

“I'm not sure.

“What
are
you going to do about Redburn?”

“His challenge? Unless he backs down, I have to accept it.”

“Could . . . could he beat you?”

McKinley cocked his head at her. With a snort he bent down over his forelegs, lifted his rump, wagged his tail, then leaped up and landed on Aspen's back, taking her by enough surprise to knock her over. Barking, she pulled away, got up, frisked sideways, then back again so that she came down on him, sending him sprawling. Yelping together, they rolled down the hill, nipping and mouthing each other excitedly. Then, tongues
lolling, panting, they stood free and faced each other, tails wagging.

Aspen barked, “I thought this was supposed to be serious.”

McKinley leaned forward and licked her nose. “Always time for fun.”

Aspen opened her mouth and gently bit his muzzle. Then she flopped down and rolled onto her back while whimpering softly. McKinley pushed his nose into the folds of skin around her neck and gave her an affectionate nip.

Aspen spun over, and for a minute they gazed into each other's eyes, tails slowly wagging.

It was McKinley who broke away to look back up the hill. “We better get going.”

Aspen barked her agreement.

McKinley climbed to the spot where they last had a whiff of the wolf's scent. “This way!” He began to follow the trail again toward Buffalo Pass. Aspen kept a step behind.

After a while she paused. “I think Lupin's lost a lot of blood.”

McKinley growled. “She's sure slowed down. She can't be too far from here.”

Aspen held back. “McKinley, do you really think she'd attack you?”

“Don't know. When I first met her she was really angry. But now she's hurt, probably weak. If she were a dog . . . but she's a wolf.”

They pressed on, coming to an area so thick with pines, most sunlight was blocked out. The air was chilly.

McKinley stopped. “Hold it!”

Aspen drew even with her friend. “What is it?”

“See that huge pine tree that's fallen over straight ahead? The one with the roots exposed?”

“What about it?”

“Can't you sniff it? Lupin's trail leads right there. I smell water, too. Must be a little creek nearby. If I were hurt and looking to hide, I'd want to be near water, wouldn't you? She must be close. Come on.”

“McKinley, careful . . .”

Nose to the ground, though occasionally looking up and around, McKinley moved forward.

Near the fallen pine he halted. When the tree fell, its roots had ripped out of the earth.

McKinley moved forward cautiously. “There's some sort of hole under those roots. And a strong smell of blood. I think Lupin is hiding there.”

Aspen lifted her nose. “Doesn't smell like death.”

They drew within a dog's length of the roots, then sat.

After a moment McKinley barked by way of greeting. “It's me, Lupin. McKinley!”

When there was no response he barked again. “Lupin, we've come to help. Can you hear me?”

From the hole beneath the torn-up roots a low growl sounded.

Aspen stood up, whimpered, and took a step back. McKinley barked again. “We really want to help!”

As they watched the hole, two eyes appeared, staring out from the darkest shadow. Lupin. Her mouth was open. Her teeth glistened. “What do you want, dogs?” she snarled.

McKinley stood.

Both dogs lowered their heads with respect and let their tails droop.

“Lupin, I've come to help,” McKinley tried again. “Are you badly hurt?”

“Your humans shot me.”

Aspen barked, “You've lost a lot of blood, haven't you?”

Lupin glared at her. “Who are you?”

“My name is Aspen. I'm McKinley's friend.”

“McKinley's friend . . . I tried to help his friend, Duchess. But a slave dog led his master to where we were.”

McKinley growled. “That was Redburn. I tried to keep him from doing it.”

“You failed, dog.”

“I know that. Lupin, how badly hurt are you?”

“I've bled some. My shoulder is in pain, and it's hard for me to move. I'm hungry, too. There's a creek just over there. It's as far as I could go. This is what comes of dealing with your humans. McKinley, why do they hate wolves so? Is it because we refuse to be their slaves?”

“Maybe it's because you look like a dog but you're wild. That confuses people. Can we bring you some food?”

“I'm a meat eater,” Lupin growled. “Real meat. Fresh meat. I'd rather die than eat the rubbish you dogs eat.”

Aspen and McKinley exchanged looks.

McKinley lifted his eyes to the wolf. “If we get fresh meat for you, will you eat?”

“If it's real, yes.” Lupin sounded weaker.

“I'll get you some.” McKinley trotted off a ways.

Aspen followed him. “What are you going to do?”

“Get what she wants.”

Aspen wagged her tail. “Maybe I better stay here.”

“You sure?”

“McKinley, I think she's worse than she lets on. She might need me to bring water.”

McKinley looked at his friend with admiration. “I'll get back as quick as I can.”

M
cKinley raced down the hill to Fox Haven Way, then moved along Porcupine Way above the pups' gathering place. He saw no sign of Jack—which was good, because the pup was the last one McKinley wanted around. He looked up. Clouds were coming in. The sun's position suggested midafternoon. A smell of snow was in the air. He needed to hurry. The boy would be coming home soon.

Outside his house McKinley looked and sniffed for any clue that the man or woman were home. Neither the car nor truck was parked out front.
Relieved, he worked the front door open and slipped inside.

Once in the hallway he took a deep breath. No humans. To be absolutely sure, he barked a few times, something he was not supposed to do inside. He checked the sleeping rooms. No one. But in Jack's room, piled up in a corner, was a pile of the things Jack took when he went into the woods and slept: his large foot coverings, a bottle, his new backpack.

Seeing that the pup was serious about finding Lupin and going with her, McKinley sighed with frustration. Though he knew it was his job to stop him, he had to deal with the wolf first.

He hurried to the food place, lifted his head, and sniffed. The room smelled of the food Sarah had recently brought into the house. Particularly strong was the smell of fresh meat—just as he had hoped.

Usually, humans' meat was kept in the box that was cold. A few times, using paws and jaws, McKinley had opened its door just out of curiosity.
Not that he had ever removed anything from inside. That would be
bad.
But today he was dealing with an emergency.

After a small struggle he worked the door open. But McKinley knew from the chilly smells that the meat he was looking for wasn't there.

This was puzzling. Using his front paws for support, McKinley stood on his hind legs and peered along the flat places where the people mixed up their food. What he saw was a deep, shining bowl. Though covered, a strong smell of meat was coming from it. The meat was there. But could he get to it?

Even as McKinley had the thought, he felt guilty. What he was attempting to do, was, by every house rule,
very bad.
Just to think of the humans' anger caused him to hang his head and lower his tail.

But he had to save Lupin.

McKinley made two attempts to jump up to the bowl. But there was no room to make a running start.

Maybe he could get to the bowl by pushing it forward to the edge of the flat place. He had to try, so he jumped up to where Jack sat to eat and, using his forepaws, pulled himself along the back of it. With his rear legs he kicked himself up onto the narrow place where the humans kept the talking thing. It went crashing to the floor.

Heart thumping, McKinley squeezed over the top of the box that was cold until he reached the far side. The bowl was just below him now. He was about to jump down when he heard a voice:

“If you would like to make a call, please hang up and dial again.”

McKinley froze. Neither sight, sound, nor smell suggested anyone had come into the room.

Even so, the voice came again:

“If you would like to make a call, please hang up and dial again.”

McKinley peered down to the floor. When the voice spoke another time he realized it was coming from the talking thing. But now the thing began to chirp. He decided to ignore it.

Stealthfully, McKinley dropped down from the top of the cold box onto the food-mixing place, where the shiny bowl sat.

It was covered by a plate with a loop on the top. McKinley grasped the loop in his mouth and lifted. It came up with ease. Twisting about, he dropped it—
crash
—onto the counter.

McKinley peered into the bowl. A hunk of meat was soaking in shallow, sour-smelling water. But then, as McKinley knew, people did strange things with their food.

He leaned into the bowl, grasped the meat firmly with his teeth, and lifted it out. He was just about to leap down from the mixing place when he thought about keeping neat. Humans liked that. What he was doing was bad enough. So he dropped the meat to the floor—
splat
—then picked the plate up with his teeth and returned it to the top of the bowl.